Intoxicative
by SchmokSchmok
Summary: It contradicted every concept of logic that both of them acted that way. Without purpose, without direction, just for... now. [...] It would have been good but not thought for a repetition. Cowboy, she had said again and laughed. Mocking. [...] Just like Meg.


This is one of my unbelievably dumb attempts of translating one of my storys into english. I think it sounds irritable weird and for english guys it may sound like... rubbish. Furthermore it'd been my first Supernatural-Fanfiction (and it's been a few months since I wrote it for an Secret Santa on )  
This Oneshot takes place between Episode 6x10 and 7x17

**Season:** Five or Six  
**Pairing**: Castiel & Meg  
**Prompt: **"I know I have a heart because I feel it breaking." (Wizard of Oz)

**Intoxicative.  
**_ by SchmokSchmok_

* * *

» _We're going to Heaven, Clarance._ «

* * *

It had felt so good, her body pressed against his. He didn't expect to have the ability of _feeling_ something this way.

He had seen his brother, how he surrounded himself with women. But he had never understood why, none of them had been worth desiring in any way, shape or form. They all had been the same, just like humans somehow all were akin. None of them had a singularity which made them really individual. Everything had been already there in some kind of way.

Then he had gotten to know Sam and Dean Winchester. They had been so different from the other human beings. They were so unpredictable. They were so... _special_.

However in one way or another they _were_ predictable. They acted because of Love. They acted because of fear. – Just like humans.

But there was one person by which he was sure to never understand. To be able to understand.

* * *

» _So what can you do, you impotent slouch?_ «

* * *

She was the forbidden fruit that he wasn't allowed to taste. Plus technically shouldn't want to taste.

But she was so seductive, so stimulating, so … so confusing wonderful. With every fiber of her body she epitomized what should disgust him but attracted him in reality.

If he would touch her, he could feel everything she had done. And it should deter him. _Should_. It should.

But actually, when he was honest, what he wanted to be in every time, there was nothing about her that would get him to want to absent himself from her.

When one took it more accurately, he always just wanted to come closer to her. As close, as possible.

He just would have to attract her and to give himself to her, she would probably do anything to spoil him, to feel herself as pure as never before.

* * *

» _An A plus for you. I feel so pure._ «

* * *

It had been so good to kiss her. A sense of self-indulgence. And it had been so unbelievable indecent. As she would demise all of her vice to him.

One moment he wondered if that was generally possible. But he didn't find an answer to this. Probably there had never existed a case of this kind. Another reason, why it stirred him up and he was in desperate straits. It was so … new.

Castiel was aghast confused from the fact that this woman, this … _demon_ got him to be sensible of something.

It was not known to him that angel were able to animadvert more than blind obedience. But now he felt so much that he wondered if he was about to be human.

That could not be normal. _Should_ not be normal. Surely it was against the Lords will.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Castiel bend over the desk on which Sam had spread a big smorgasbord of maps, pictures and notes.

A sigh, than an answer: "I try to perceive a pattern in this attacks. Probably we will get after that to the bottom of where the Vendigo is hiding. This nondiscrimination in the area selection cumbers everything."

For hours they had heard nothing from Dean, and Castiel felt so useless because he didn't know what he should do to help both of them.

"I'll ask around a little bit. Perhaps I'm able to get to know something."

Before Sam could say anything about that, Castiel already disappeared.

* * *

Dawsonville was a sixhundrednineteen-soul big city in Georgia.

It appeared to be the center of the attacks which had happened in the surrounding villages. Like the eye of a hurricane it had stayed unscathed which made it appear more suspicious.

Actually Castiel had no idea of how he should get into a conversation with one of the dwellers. And how he should learn from them, who was the Vendigo, was not really clear in his mind yet. Since the beast wouldn't hawk it around. At least he thought it was unlikely.

Still quite clueless he walked through the streets of Dawsonville and tried to find at least something that could help them.

One Reason that probably complicated the seeking of information was that it already dawned and nobody was seen on the streets. Maybe he should go back into the motel again to help Sam from there. Or maybe he should look for Dean and help him.

But before he had to decide, he felt something right behind himself.

He turned around and there she stood.

As if she waited for him, she stood there with crossed arms and a mocking smile on her lips.

"Yeah, Cowboy", she said and stepped up a few steps to him, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be watching your two lapdogs?"

For a moment Castiel were quiet, than he recovered himself and answered: "Shouldn't you be running from other demons that want to take revenge for Crowley?"

She laughed slightly and came to a stand right in front of him: "I can look on my own after myself very well, after all I am a big girl. Or do you worry about me, … _Cas_?"

Of course he had been thinking about her. But he had never worried about her. She knew how she had to look after herself. She didn't need someone for it, certainly not him.

"I didn't get worried about you, … _Meg_", he answered and by the way he wondered why he copied her way to say his name in this curious tone. And why she generally said his name in this curious tone. Therefore, it seemed to him, was no plausible reason. But what about Meg's behaviour was complete plausible to explain?

After a few seconds, in which silence had dominated, she just stepped up another step to him and he could feel her breath on his skin. It should be unpleasant but it was definitely not. – Another circumstance that confused him. In the past he had not differentiate between pleasant and unpleasant. Such things had not existed.

Since he knew Meg, it was different.

He had begun to doubt after his encounter with Sam and Dean. To doubt about everything that he had previously accepted without asking any questions. And he had begun to reflect on his own. But he hat never felt anything. Confusion, bafflement, sympathy, yes. But he had not felt terrestrial desiderata. No desire, no demand, no yearning. – Certainly not for a demon.

"You're so silent, Cowboy", she said and he could feel her breath beat warm against his skin. Again he became aware of the fact how close she stand to him. "Don't you have something to say? – So I can leave again."

However he didn't want her to go. And he didn't want that she absent herself from him. Even if it was just about some inches.

"We're searching for a Vendigo", he called before she could move too distant from him, "Why _Cowboy_?"

Castiel knew, what a cowboy was, that was why the term seemed not appropriate for him.

She had turned around towards him, but didn't make approaches to him again. A chuckle, than a seductive: "How shall I call you instead, … _Cas_?"

Mocking. If he had to describe her intonation, he would label it with _mocking_.

He just wanted to say to her that she could call him, how she wanted, as long as she stayed. But he could swallow those words and said instead: "Irrelevant."

And suddenly her lips were back on his. Her arm disappeared under his trench coat.

It felt familiar, at the same time though completely foreign. Good, without doubt, but then so profligate and spoiled, how nothing else could feel like.

One arm lied around her hip he pulled her towards himself and pressed her body against his. _Déjà-vu_.

Why did her body feel so good on his? How could it even be possible to feel that good?

Castiels thoughts spun around and he tripped over one notion again and again. _Meg_.

When they had moved apart and Castiel had opened his eyes, he had to look around for one moment until he noticed that they were not longer on the dusty streets of Dawsonville. Instead he thought to be located in a motel in which she obviously found accommodation. At least he assumed that it was hers.

"Where..."

But rather than let him finish speaking, she gave him a strong push with her hands and he found himself on the bed, Meg above him. He felt something in his back. Shouldn't he have notice it?

"Actually I just wanted to give you your dagger back", she purred and, despite the darkness, he could recognize a glance in her eyes, "However my plan changed a little bit."

Confusion. Once again. But this time he asked her about it: "What do you want now?"

She grinned and held his arms above his head: "I have conquered all those bad hell hounds, that's why I thought that I deserve a reward. And what could be more reward than to spoil an angel and to contaminate him in this way? What could be better?"

Oh, and Castiel wanted to get spoiled. He wanted to show her what else he had learned from the pizza man. And he wanted to feel more of this wickedness which resonated in every of her kiss. This immoral profligacy which felt so good when it reverberated in him and acquired vogue.

"I don't know it."

This sentence seemed to be like a start sign for Meg. She pounced on him, kissed him, teared at his tie.

Castiel however was completely unable to cope with this situation. What he had to do, it was not in the least clear, and he wished that somebody would help him. Which, of course, nobody did.

But Meg wasn't bothered about that.

Meanwhile she had loosened his tie and throw it away from herself. Now she meddled herself to slowly open the buttons of his shirt. A completely pointless act, like Castiel thought, but for any reason, which he did not understand, had his hands found their way on her hips. Now they nosed under her shirt, touched her skin.

It was just a little bit skin, of which he was fully aware, however it felt so inconceivably good to touch her.

She moaned in the kiss and straighten herself, looked at him. Than she said: "Do it. Come on, Cowboy."

But he didn't move and just stared at her. A little bit uncomprehending. _What should he do?_ That made no sense.

After she had waited a few seconds, she had laughed once again mocking, then she had pulled her shirt over her head. Didn't women wear normally bras? Meg anyhow wore none.

Megs host was attractive, without doubt, but much more attractive was herself. Castiel wondered how she looked like without a human host. – Intoxicative, he was sure about that. She must feel like pure temptation.

"You make it so easy for me."

Her voice was silent, he understood her hardly, he was engrossed in her too much. – How was it even possible that a demon possessed his mind in this kind of way? It was hard to think straight.

Maybe she had said nothing. Maybe he had imagined it.

"If you don't start soon", she said and removed hair from her face, "I'll go and get my reward from someone else."

_No_.

He pulled her towards himself again and kissed her.

Again she laughed slightly in the kiss. Mocking. Just like Meg.

* * *

It had been strange. Good, without doubt really good. But indeed also quite strange.

Castiel hadn't thought that he was able to do something like _that_.

She laid by his side, the hair ruffled and hard breathing. But in between he had seen her quickly. Very quickly he had caught a glimpse of her. How she looked like. How she _really_ looked like. He had seen it in her eyes.

For a little moment she had been refined. From all her sins. Just because of him.

She hadn't lied. He was her kick, he made her perfect, he lifted her in spheres which otherwise stayed unkown for her. Just his kisses made her feel close to purity.

Meg had the opposite effect on him. That churlish he had never felt before. In a good; a dirty, but good way.

* * *

_» An A plus for you. I feel so pure. «_

* * *

He _still_ heard how she had moaned his name. As if he was responsible for redemption... for _her_ redemption, mantra-like.

It contradicted every concept of logic that both of them acted that way. Without purpose, without direction, just for... now.

Sometime she had said that it had been the last time. It would have been good but not thought for a repetition. _Cowboy, _she had said again and laughed. Mocking.

After that she had asked if _Daddy_ would allow tho do _those things_ with the evil. Castiel had fallen silent. He hadn't known and didn't want to confess.

She insisted that he had to go. Not through a direct order, but with everything else she had. He wondered how she was able to do it.

And a little part of him asked why he had to leave this sin behind.

* * *

» _So what can you do, you impotent slouch?_ «

* * *

Nevertheless he left her behind and disappeared with a bad tied, crooked tie. Without tugging his shirt into his pants.

Only now he realized that she had his dagger again. This bitch. This dirty, good feeling bitch. Of course she had noticed his lack of attention. She had said on her own that she had changed her plans. She had taken advantage of the situation like she took advantage of everything that played in her hands. And he just had let her win. Just because of a dumb discovery.

He hadn't realized that he had a heart like a human until it broke.

And it was just Megs fault.

Meg who laughed mocking like only she could. Meg who made his thoughts rave. Meg who was able to get his body to react. Meg who secretly hoped for a reencounter.

* * *

» _We're going to Heaven, Clarance._ «


End file.
